


Out of the Woods

by teicakes



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Centaur Lance, Centaurs, Grooming, M/M, Mild Mentions of Blood, Slow Burn, Stargazing, deetaurs actually, fugitive shiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-03-26 11:48:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13857162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teicakes/pseuds/teicakes
Summary: Shiro’d only ever heard rumours of centaurs roaming the woods of the kingdom, and Lance? Well, he’d only ever known humans to be violent and cruel. With worlds like these colliding, something is bound to give.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this ages ago for the Aphelion writer's zine and didn't manage to get around to posting it at new years when we were allowed to. I got really attached to it when I wrote it, I drew a ton of chara designs back around inktober and now with the new developments in season 5 (of course no spoilers) I'm in such a Shance mood I want to dive back into drowning in these two again q ^ q

He really hadn’t meant for it to go this far. He’d been lying low, travelling town to town, hunting small game and doing odd chores for a meal and a roof. He’d only been wandering through the marketplace, starving and hoping to find a shop he could wash dishes for in exchange for leftovers or day olds. It wasn’t his fault there was nothing to hunt in the fields, or that the farmers had help to spare. Shiro had just been there, starving and watching as a baker lashed out at his apprentice. The poor boy, barely in his teens, was dodging blow after blow from his master’s rolling pin, all while the display sat untouched. 

The man was cruel. If anyone deserved to lose some of his wares, it was him. 

Or that was what he’d told himself.

Now, sprinting through the forest, grubby loaf in hand and the sounds of hoofbeats behind him, Shiro was having second thoughts. This was excessive for petty theft, no doubt about it. He’d expected members of the block watch perhaps, not the royal guard. Then again, he wasn’t someone who’d only warrant a drunken sheriff and his cronies. 

Shiro took a hard right off the main trail, sloshing through the brook in an attempt to throw off any of their hounds (of course, why wouldn’t they have hounds? He was wanted kingdom wide), and tore off a few meters downstream away from the riding path. 

He needed dense brush, _ cover _ . Someplace that the guards would both be unable to traverse and unlikely to suspect. He scanned the underbrush as he began to loop back around, closer to where they’d chased him into the woods. A simple bush or stump wouldn’t suffice; in the worst case he’d have to take his chances in a nest of brambles. 

His opportunity presented itself another dozen yards into his dash, the start of a blackberry thicket growing over a felled tree. New plants were starting to push up to fill the small clearing, but at a casual glance it would look too open for anyone to think he’d taken refuge there. Shiro dove over the log and wedged himself into the space between rotting wood and damp earth. Sucking in a breath, he squeezed his eyes shut and made a silent plea to the heavens. Every fibre of his being was coiled, posed to move at the slightest sound. 

It was as if the entire forest was holding its breath with him. No birdsong or wind whistled through the leaves. The only sounds were the babbling of the brook, the distant shouts of soldiers, and one sharp gasp.

Shiro’s eyes flew open. 

He was not alone. 

A boy, no, a young man was seated an arms length away from him, sitting so still that Shiro hadn’t noticed him at all as he’d taken his current position. With his brown hair and tan skin he practically blended into the forest itself, the pattern of sunlight filtering through the leaves mottling across his naked chest like the dying shrub behind him. The crown of leaves framing his face and dark wide eyes only served to add to his camouflage. There were even branches—

Not branches.

Horns.  _ Antlers _ in fact. 

A squeak left Shiro and he clapped a hand over his mouth as the youth jumped at the noise. 

The crown he’d assumed was a weaving of leaves and branches was in fact creeping vines and fresh shoots wrapped about the boy’s antlers. Both were nearly a half foot each and  _ oh god _ . Shiro’s stomach lurched. The tips were bright red. 

His gaze quickly drifted away from the sight, trying to suppress the thoughts of his own blood staining those antlers, and stopped again at the boy’s waist. At first glance it had seemed he’d been dressed in baggy pants, but now he saw them for what they were. The line of his stomach trailed down into coarse fur, ending just above the point of indecency to taper into a bottom that was by all accounts,  _ not human.  _ Shiro watched, still somewhere between terror and awe, as the creature pulled a leg from beneath itself and planted a cloven hoof for him to see. All the while, its eyes remained locked onto Shiro’s.

It was going to run, whether to charge at him or away, and Shiro was powerless to stop it. He could only lie there, face in the mulch and wait for his fate, be it from these hooves or those in the distance. 

The hunt was closing in, growing closer in fact. If they spotted this… thing they’d surely search the clearing, and everything would be over. All for one lousy loaf of bread. 

Still trapped in the creature’s eyes—so dark, like the ocean before a storm—he shook his head, a silent plea. He was at its mercy, and Shiro could only hope it didn’t want to be found as much as he did. 

There they stayed, frozen, watching each other as the sound of horses drew closer and closer, until the shouts of the guards were as clear as if Shiro was one of them. From the corner of his eye he could see the deep purple of the party’s flag, almost feel their swords drag into his flesh, cut him across the arm, the back, the nose… Time stood still in that instant, the blood rushing through Shiro’s ears drowning out everything else to the sound of his heartbeat.

Then, at last, their sounds grew distant; footsteps fading away back into the sounds of the forest. Only then did it feel safe to breathe again. 

The boy’s eyes remained fixed on him until even the sounds of their shouts disappeared, never leaving Shiro even as he drew himself up to full height. And lord, what a height it was. 

At Shiro’s best guess before he’d stood, he’d assumed the youth was no taller than his comrade Keith, but now he could see the creature would tower over him by several inches, tawny limbs just as long and willowy as his torso. Four of them in fact.

“You’re… you’re a centaur.” His mouth seemed to realize it before his brain could. There were always rumors of forest folk, faeries and will-o-wisps and the like, but the one accepted as truth were the herds of centaurs that populated the largest of the kingdom’s wilderness. Sightings were rare but confirmed, tied together with the common thread of brief glimpses and standoffs until the beings retreated back into the underbrush. Still, he’d never expected to run into one by chance. 

His observation clearly did nothing to engage the other, now pacing around him, ever tracking his movements. Something crawled along his face and he brushed it away, only to have a bow drawn on him from nowhere.

“H-hey! I’m not gonna hurt you!” Shiro stammered, hands flying upward in a sign of surrender. The centaur remained unmoved, still circling. If he could understand, he made no indication of it. “I won’t do anything, I won’t tell anyone! Just walk away and we can both be on our way!” Shiro’s pleas grew more desperate. “Please, just let me live! I swear, I’ll—”

But he never got a chance to finish his bargain. So focused on his target, the centaur had failed to navigate the uneven ground of the clearing. One leg caught in a hollow and buckled beneath him, sending the centaur face first into the dirt and arrow directly into a nearby tree. 

Shiro fought down a snort of laughter, failing miserably. Peals of laughter rang out; and really, how could he not? The centaur’s rear legs were splayed skyward, his front ones in some form of animalistic splits. 

“Hey!” The boy’s head shot up from the earth, now thoroughly covered in dust. “Quit it! Stop laughing!”

It took several shaky breaths for Shiro to pull back a semblance of composure, but he finally silenced the last of his laughter with a palm.

“I… I’m sorry but… you have to admit,” he wheezed, “…it was hard not to.”

The boy pouted. 

“Hey!” Shiro said, quickly changing the topic, “You can speak! The same language as the kingdom too!”

Unlike before, he was now actively trying to avoid meeting Shiro’s eyes. “S’not like you own the language or anything…” He wiped a smudge of mud off his cheek. “We’ve probably spoken it longer than you all, you’re too busy with fighting each other to make things.”

“I guess that’s true,” Shiro chuckled, “especially now of all times. The kingdom’s kind of been in disarray. You have a name by chance? I’m Shiro.” 

The look he gave Shiro was as if he’d just come across something particularly putrid. His only reply was a huff as he drew himself back up to full height, and then a yell as his leg buckled under him. Shiro made to help him, only to have the centaur attempt to scurry backwards in pain. 

“I’m not going to hurt you, look!” Shiro took the dagger from his belt, a weathered old thing, and dropped it at his feet. “I’m unarmed. Just let me look at your foot.”

He crawled forwards at a snail’s pace, hands held facing upwards at his sides until he reached the beast. At his first touch the boy flinched back, whether in pain or distrust, but on Shiro’s second attempt he managed to stay still, leg jerking ever so often as Shiro’s fingers brushed over a particularly sensitive part. 

“I don’t think it’s broken, probably just a light sprain.” He wasn’t sure if he was talking to the other or just himself. “I could splint it for you, help it heal faster. All I need is a— Aha here we go!” He plucked a long strip of bark off the ground. “Almost perfect; it's curved too. Hold on for a second.”

It took a few more minutes to wrap the limb in cloth from his tunic and kerchief, with the wood secured against the back as a splint. At his last knot the centaur finally spoke again.

“It’s Lance.”

“What?”

“My name… Lance. Since you asked earlier and all…” Shiro chanced a glance at the other’s face and managed to get a look at his lightly tinted cheeks before he’d spun away. “Not that you’ll ever use it again, but since you helped me…”

Shiro fought the chuckle forming on his tongue. “Thanks, Lance.”

“…You’re welcome.”

Lance rose, more slowly this time, and tested the weight on his hoof. It was far from fixed, his face still scrunching in discomfort, but he seemed able enough to walk on it. 

“Well, it’s somewhat better,” he said as he reached up to dig his arrow out of the tree. It was returned to a quiver belted around his waist. “I guess I should thank you? That’s what humans do when someone fixes them up, right?”

“You’re right, and I’m glad I could help,” Shiro hummed and rocked back on his heels. “Are you headed anywhere?”

Lance gave him a suspicious look.

“Home,” he said, and turned tail back into the underbrush. 

Before he knew it Shiro was alone in the clearing, the only evidence of his encounter were a hole in a tree and the hoof prints one would mistake for a simple deer. He was alone. Again. Alone and hunted and lost.

“Lance! Wait up!”

Lance’s entire torso spun around independent of his lower half as he gawked at the human advancing at him. He was clearly startled, eyes wide, and made to run off in a gallop. 

He made it two yards before there was a hiss and he was clutching at his injured leg. Shiro was at his side in another instant, waiting patiently as Lance tested it several times to check for more damage. 

“Do you mind if I join you?”

“Do I have a choice?” Lance sighed. 

* * *

It wasn’t that he hated the human, or wanted him to drop dead. It was hard to feel that way about someone who’d patched you up and kept asking about your leg. And it wasn’t that he simply smelled of rot and man sweat from whatever chase he’d been undergoing. It wasn’t even that the man wouldn’t stop asking him things in the hopes of some light conversation happening. 

It was the fact that all this was coming from a human.

His entire life, Lance had been taught to avoid the two-legged ones. Even if their intelligence rivaled even that of their own, humans were selfish, impulsive creatures, quick to act but slow to regret their consequences. Stories told to him since he was a faun spoke of how humans had used to try and capture their kind, keep them in displays like an exotic jewel, or merely hunt them for the sport of killing a beast as smart as them. 

Not this one though.

Lance chanced a glance over his shoulder at the man, this…  _ “Shiro” _ . He was dressed plainly enough in grey and black rags far too big for him, not unlike the drunks and beggars he’d sometimes see near the outskirts of the forest. But the clothes didn’t suit him. Even with what little he knew, he could tell beneath the fabric the man was well built with muscle, and that the clean grain of his chin was a sign of someone with a clear handle on life. The scar across his face, however, suggested someone accustomed to battle. Something about it was off, like two halves of a branch that couldn’t fit together. It made him want to run, injured leg and all.

“Do you live far away?” The man had been keeping up this line of questions for some time now. Lance’s nerves were starting to grind thin.

“Far enough.”

“Do centaurs live together, like in herds?”

“Well, we don’t live in houses.”

“Do you hunt with that bow?”

“Yes.”

“Wild game?”

“ _ Yes. _ ”

“So you eat meat?”

“ _ What do you think?”  _ Lance snapped. He stopped to glare at the human again, hand darting to his quiver and drawing an arrow before he even realized the full extent of the action. 

Shiro froze on the spot. The man’s arms shot up in surrender even as he sunk to his knees. Apologies were tumbling out his mouth before he’d hit the ground; babble about talking too much and overstepping Lance’s privacy that only served to feed the growing knot of frustration in Lance’s gut. 

“Why are you following me?” he asked slowly. 

Shiro seemed to blink in surprise at that. “Because you seem like you know where you’re going.”

“That’s not what I asked, I mean,  _ why are you tailing me back to my group? _ ”

“I’m… well… I’m not exactly tailing you.”

“Trust me,” Lance huffed, “you are.” He lowered his bow, leaving the string still taut. “I’m only going to ask one more time. Why do you want to find us? Because if you’re planning to hurt so much as a single antler on someone’s head, I swear to god…”

“It’s not like that at all! I’m just…” Shiro raked his hand through his hair. “I’m  _ really _ not on good terms with the kingdom right now. You saw that patrol, I can’t go back the way I came, they’ll catch me the second I step out of the woods. Just let me stay with you for a little while until they call off the search, that’s all I ask.”

It was hard to say if he was lying or not. On the one hand, he could be telling the truth and all Lance needed to do was keep him deep enough in the forest until he could drop him off near a human path. On the other, he could still be looking for the glory that came from capturing one of his kind. In either case, it looked as though he’d be stuck with him for sometime yet. Turning tail and abandoning him wasn’t an option right now.

“You’d be seriously inconveniencing me,” he groaned. “You already have…”

Shiro’s hands had dropped to his sides, his head tilted in sympathy but a soft smile forming on his lips. “I know it’s probably not what you want to do, but I really appreciate it. What did I interrupt you with, is there any chance I can help?”

As if on cue, Lance’s stomach growled. 

“Are you…” Shiro pointed.

“N-no,” he stammered, even as his ears drooped as he wrapped his arms around his midsection. It wasn’t his fault there’d been so much noise in the woods scaring the game off.

“I have some bread if you want some, where is it… ah, here!” The human produced what looked like a large stone of bark from his sack. He held it out in earnest, as if a ball of wood was actually a food. 

“You don’t want any?”

Lance gave it another once over. “Is it even edible?”

“Of course it’s… oh right you’ve probably never had it before.” He came to stand beside him and ripped off a chunk. “Here.” At Lance’s continued hesitance he sighed and took a bite, chewing and swallowing himself before offering it up again. “No poison, I promise.”

He reached out to take it from Shiro, nearly dropping the piece as his fingers brushed against the other’s warm calloused ones. It didn’t smell bad… or look anywhere near as hard as it first seemed. He took a bite.

And then another. 

Followed by a third. 

Maybe a fourth too.

Shiro laughed softly, tearing off another piece and handing it to him just as he finished the first. “I’m glad you like it.”

“S’not bad,” he managed behind another mouthful. It was a strange mix of chewy and soft and lightly sweet but he couldn’t help himself from scarfing down more. The mass seemed to expand slightly in his stomach, filling in the gnawing pit that had been there minutes earlier. 

“Feeling better?” Shiro asked after he’d finished his second piece. Lance could only nod, still not sure the right words to use. Shiro seemingly felt the same, awkwardly scratching his nose below his scar until working up the nerve to meet eyes again. 

“So… would it be okay then? Just a day or two, that’s it.”

Lance blinked. “Huh?”

“Ah, well, me tagging along with you in the forest. Until things calm down. Can I?” He looked up at Lance, head cocked. It was almost like the fawns begging to come on long gathering trips, lack of antlers and all.

“I guess…” Lance scratched his head, stopping when he felt a strip of velvet loosen. “But you have to stop with the stupid questions.”

Shiro’s beam was momentary, a bright flash of sunlight breaking through cloud before falling into puzzlement. Lance’s cheeks warmed at its light. “Was everything I was saying stupid? I was just curious, there’s basically nothing about centaurs in the texts other than sightings. So I can’t ask about the pale spots on your shoulders?”

“Not all of it… but really, why would anyone hunt and not eat it,” he trotted forward several steps before realizing Shiro had stayed where he was. Lance sighed. 

“Come on,” he said with a wave of his antlers. “You’re coming aren’t you?” 

Their travels turned to more peaceful conversation, Shiro occasionally asking about this bush here or that bird there. Lance did his best to answer, once or twice raising his own questions about the human (what was his cloak made of? How could it just be hair trimmings?) He’d seemed to take Lance’s words to heart, his only comments about centaurs reduced to appreciation of Lance’s navigation. He’d managed to circle the outskirts of their home territory, keeping them just outside the borders but still well away from the highway populated by merchants and rogues until sunlight began to wane and the need to find shelter grew. 

“We’ll stop here,” he said in the middle of a large clearing. Shiro jerked to a stop, seemingly roused from some inner thoughts.

“Oh thank god…” The human stopped as soon as Lance spoke and sat down, tugging at his feet. Lance watched with fascination as the brown hooves covering them slid off, revealing two sets of miniscule fingers. “My feet were beginning to hurt.” His curiosity turned to shock as the human took two rocks from his satchel and began to spark them together. 

“What are you doing?” he yelled, jumping forward to trample the embers forming in the dry grass. “You’ll have us spotted and killed!”

“ _ Killed?!” _ His flint dropped to the ground as Lance continued stamping every trace of flame out.

“If they find out I’ve let a human get this deep in the woods, it’s not just your patrol we have to worry about.”

“You mean… wait… even your tribe would?” Eyes wide as a cornered squirrel, Shiro looked between Lance and the discarded fire-starters. “Oh my god… Lance I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he sighed, “You didn’t know.” He settled down in the trampled ground. Stress was already mounting in his temples; he massaged it out with one hand, the other shoved out in front of the man. “Bread?”

“Of course! One second.” A generous chunk was passed to him before Shiro took another for himself. They chewed in silence for some time, Lance occasionally stealing glances at Shiro from behind his lashes. It seemed Shiro was doing the same, for at his last mouthful of bread he scratched his ear and spoke.

“About your antlers… they’re bleeding. What happened? Do you want me to clean them before they infect?“ 

Lance gave him a confused look, at which Shiro pointed to the tips of his horns. He laughed before he could help himself, giggles intensifying at Shiro’s distressed face.

“I’m fine,  _ really _ Shiro. It doesn’t hurt at all. They’re just shedding.” At the human’s continued concern he carried on. “Every spring I grow a new pair and the velum falls away when I’m done. Itches like hell though, gets all in my eyes. Have to do the best I can to keep it out of the way.” 

“Really?” Shiro’s fingers extended to touch the tips of Lance’s horns, flinching back as he first touched the peeling velvet, but at Lance’s lack of reaction they returned. “You don’t clean them?” he asked, now petting the soft casing. 

“We do, but it’s traditional not to do your own. Someone else has to.”

Shiro’s lips pursed to a pout as he continued to trace up and down Lance’s antlers. “So that means I could? If it bothers you and all.”

“I… maybe…” Lance stumbled. Shiro was already gently thumbing at the edges, working as if there were even nerves he could hurt. Lance fell into silence watching him focus. How could he bring it up now that this was usually saved for close confidents? To date, he’d only ever had his family and best friend do this for him, and that would likely only change when he found a mate. It was the type of thing you only ever did for someone you cared about, not a random stranger. The whole process, if done right, was intensely intimate, both parties carefully cleaning each other’s fresh bone, the time spent doing so serving to only increase their bond. 

Letting him clean them wouldn’t be blasphemy per say… there were no rules saying only certain people could.  _ Still. _ He watched as Shiro began to unwrap the ivy holding his velvet in place, entirely fixated on his task. If he simply let him do this in silence, learning nothing, wouldn’t that be more wrong than letting a human touch him in the first place? Lance continued to study Shiro’s face: his grey eyes, his thick brows that turned upwards as he focused on his work, the long gash that marred his skin. As the final garland of leaves was unraveled from his crown, he made his choice.

“How did you get that scar?”

The scrap of velvet Shiro was working on fell onto Lance’s forehead, going entirely unnoticed as the man seemed to enter another space. The grey of his eyes clouded over from overcast to incoming storm. A finger traced the divot dividing his face in two. Lance was about to take it back, trade that question for a tamer one about the man’s family, or maybe even the origin of bread, so sad was the look on his face. 

“I was trying to protect someone… someone close to me, but I couldn’t do it. In the end it was all too much, there were too many of them, they overwhelmed me and I couldn’t break through. It was all I could do to just escape with these cuts.” He let out a bitter laugh as he drew up a sleeve, revealing a spider-web of scars lacing up the limb. “Now they just remind me of how I failed.”

“Is there any way you can fix it?” His voice came as a whisper. 

Shiro’s gaze remained on his scars. “Not unless I can turn back time. The closest I can get would be to dethrone the one who killed them, but like this,” he gestured at his face, “remaining unrecognized is already too much of a challenge.”

What was he supposed to say to that? Simple feuds between tribes was enough, but murder between the same race was something else entirely, something awful, horrible, so unspeakable he couldn’t imagine the face of someone who could perform it, no matter the reason.

“I’m sorry,” Shiro mumbled, reaching back up to peel the casing out of Lance’s hair. “You probably don’t want to hear that kind of thing.” He fell back into silence. It was almost the same as before, except now a deep line furrowed itself down the center of his crown, a mirror of the divide now gaping even wider between them.

“They’re for camouflage,” he blurted out, so desperate to break the stifling void that filled the air between them.

“What?” Confusion replaced Shiro’s expression.

“My spots… you asked about them before and well, they help look like the sunspots in forest light, but they fade more and more every year. I used to have them on my flank too but they’re gone now, I’m too old.”  _ God that was stupid,  _ he thought _ , why are you babbling like that? Why would he even care about something like that right now?  _ He twisted a little, half hiding his face and half allowing Shiro a glance at the faint markings on his tawny fur.

The other let out a low whistle, fingers ghosting over his back. “You really are deer-like…” he said as he gently traced on of the circles. “That reminds me, I heard they don’t have any smell when they’re born, is that the same for you?”

“Of course there’s new fawn smell!” he snorted, turning back to face Shiro. “Where the heck did you get that idea?” 

It was like a switch had been flipped. From there, conversation made itself as they began to contrast the differences between cultures, jumping back and forth with ‘ _ no way’s _ and ‘ _ the same? _ ’s? Shiro was alarmed at how bucks would battle with their horns just for sport, and he himself was gobsmacked that humans had figured out how to grow all forms of food in things called  _ ‘farms’ _ . There were parallels he’d never realized either. Humans also often made teas from the leaves of plants and herbs and exchanged precious gifts in promise with their mates. 

Their banter carried on far beyond the last rays of sunlight, Shiro’s cleaning slowed as his hands stopped to gesture or draw in the dirt before them. Lance had been lulled into the soft expanse of Shiro’s lap, his chin in his arms across the human’s knees as he worked on the very last patches of the antlers. Every now and then he’d stop to polish the newly exposed bone with a scrap off his clothing. There was no doubt the next time he’d observe himself in a lake or stream they would be gleaming like he’d never seen them before, Shiro was that determined to remove every last trace of blood or skin.

“I think I’m done. You want me to rewrap everything with the leaves again?” Shiro stretched and settled back on his elbows, his groan of relief not going missed by Lance. Even so, he pouted as the shift jostled him from where he’d lain. Shiro’s hands had been oddly soothing, working not only on his antlers but also combing his hair and scalp as he’d worked. Only Hunk had ever come close to being that gentle with him. 

“I don’t really need it anymore now that they’re all clean, so probably not.”

“Pity. It looked really nice on you.”

He could feel his cheeks redden.  _ It looked really nice? _ Why did that make him so happy? Earlier he wouldn’t have cared what Shiro’d have thought, but now he was infinitely grateful the veil of night hid his joy. 

“Maybe tomorrow? Just to give you a break and all.” He prayed the redness hadn’t spread down his neck as well. Fortunately Shiro was far more focused on settling his form into the grass until he was framed with soft green strands.

“No complaints there, it’s nice to just lie back and look at the stars. Oh look, there’s the Big Dipper!” One of his fingers thrust up into the sky and Lance followed its path. 

“That’s not a  _ ‘dipper’ _ , that’s the Great Bear,” he scoffed.

“Oh, well I have heard that other people call it Ursa Major, too. Maybe there’s a link there?” Shiro’s eyes strayed from the heavens back to him. “Do centaurs have constellations too? Do you star gaze a lot?”

“Star gaze?”

“Yeah, where you lie on your back and just look at everything in the night sky.”

“Not really…” It wasn’t uncommon for him to look up at the stars, but it was never for very long and certainly not on his back.

“You should really try it,” said Shiro with a pat beside him. “You can see all the stars in the sky at once, just looking down on you from who knows how far away.” At Lance’s continued stillness he tapped the ground with more emphasis. “Really Lance, if you’ve never done it before you need to! Just this once, you never have to do it again if you don’t like it.”

There was a lot that could go wrong. On his back he’d be unable to rise quickly, unable to defend himself should Shiro decide to try and plunge a knife into him at the opportune moment. He’d be completely unguarded. And yet, he found himself settling closer to the human, adjusting and rolling until he found himself with his hooves in the air and shoulder nudging against Shiro’s own. He looked up.

It was like looking into another world, a still lake of crystal fireflies twinkling before him every way his eyes looked. The faint silver trail of the Starry Way stretched along the backdrop of the night like a lazy brook as the rest of the cosmos spread out before him, dimmed only in the small halo around the crescent moon. He’d seen it all before, in bits and pieces, but now, like this, it was as if he’d finally stepped back to view it in its entirety. 

“I always wonder what’s out there.” Shiro’s speech, soft as it was, still made him jump in the quiet of the moment. “What’s up in the sky, what each star is, if there’s anyone else out there looking back at me. Makes me wonder if we’ll ever get to know what’s really out there.” He sighed, long and low. “I guess it’s one of those mysteries of the future. It’s not as though we’ll get to know.”

“Mmm, well, they can tell you some things about the future.”

“Really?” Shiro had rolled over, eyes specked with the light of the sky as he stared at Lance in earnest. He felt strangely drawn to them, like twin children of the heavens above them.

“Yeah… it’s something the Elders can do. I know some of the basics but they study for years to know the meaning of every last detail.”

Shiro’s mouth parted, his eyes even wider now as they stared into his own. He felt his mouth go dry, and despite the warmth of the night a shiver traveled up his neck.

“Would you want me to try?”

The human nodded with vigour, turning back to the sky as if he was seeing it for the first time. “How do you do it? Do you need to know all the stars?”

“The Elders do, but I can probably do a reading just knowing the sign of your birth.”

“The sign?”

“When you were born. Just let me know when in the Gregorian calendar.” Shiro gave him the date and he began to scan the sky. The Twin Fish, not an easy one to find, even if they were showing this time of year. It took him several minutes to locate, finally spying the smaller of the two peeking out from behind the top of the trees to his right. He took several more scanning for the planets, noting their positions and movements to the gentle sounds of their breathing. His eyes flickered over Shiro one last time, trying to trace back the years of his face to the time he was born into this world.

“I might be wrong,” he started, “but it seems as though you were born into two difficult retrogrades. You feel a sense of duty to look after others and easily doubt your worth, doubly so with the first because of your ruling planet.”

“Makes sense,” Shiro sighed.  “Any chance they know where I’m headed next?”

“Well, see there?” He pointed over to Mars. “It’s influence has weakened recently, so you’ll likely be lower spirits for the next week.” At Shiro’s snort he flicked his ears. “Okay so that’s not what you had in mind. You know I’m not as good with the distant planets? So don’t blame me if I’m wrong here.”

“I doubt you’re responsible for how the fates toy with me, Lance.”

“I’m just checking,” he pouted. “I don’t want to give you false hope.”

His shoulder warmed as Shiro wriggled closer, their heads now so close he could feel the man’s hairs tickle the tips of his ear. “Don’t worry, Lance, any hope would be good right now.”

“Okay, well, you see Saturn there? It’s influence is starting to weaken right now, just as Uranus and Neptune are growing stronger. Jupiter and Pluto are holding steady but the former should be strengthening in the coming months.”

“I think… wow, you have good eyesight. But what does that mean?”

Lance licked his lips. “If I’m right, that you’ll finally have a chance to move on and heal from your past. Slowly of course, but it looks like your bad luck is on it’s way out.”

“Is that so?” Lance chanced a glance over, only to catch Shiro’s lips twitch in a hesitant smile as he fought the glaze of tears forming in his eyes. “I really hope you’re right.”

“For your sake I hope so too,” he whispered, closing the gap and resting his head against the other’s. They lay there together, unmoving as Shiro’s breaths slowed gently into sleep, Lance’s eyes never wandering from the stars before him. Soon enough the call of slumber was too great even for him and he felt his eyelids begin to flutter. He brought a hand to his antler again, gently rubbing the polished bone as he closed his eyes for the final time, the afterglow of the last image he’d seen slowly fading. Venus, rising between the stars of the Lion.   
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try and update this a bit more regularly, at least once a month I hope! I've got the next few chapters roughed out, really looking forward to the next two!

Shiro woke to stripes of sunlight on his face, strands of grass tickling his cheek. Despite the hard ground under him he felt well rested, maybe even better than the last time he’d splurged for a bed in an inn (though that time he  _ had _ been sleeping with an ear and eye open, ready to leap from the covers if someone tried to attack him in the dead of night). Maybe it was the birdsong, or the rustling of wind in the trees. Whatever it was, he felt safe. Relaxed even. 

And then he remembered his companion. 

_ Lance. The centaur. _

Shiro sat bolt upright, startling a nearby starling, eyes scanning the grass beside him.

Gone. 

He could still see the imprint of the man’s body beside him, the few hoofprints and wayward strips of leftover velvet from his horns. There was no mistaking it, Lance had been here, he hadn’t hallucinated the whole thing, but… Shiro touched the ground where he’d lain. It was cold. Lance must be long gone by now. 

It made sense though. He hadn’t exactly been keen on having Shiro around by the way he acted. Sure, he’d certainly  _ tolerated  _ him, and Shiro had done his best to respect his wishes once he’d figured out what did and didn’t make him uncomfortable, even tried to do something nice for him, but all that didn’t mean he wanted a travel companion. Considering Lance had been staring down at him from the shaft of his arrow on more than one occasion yesterday, being left like this was probably him showing kindness. 

Still, it didn’t mean it didn’t sting a little. 

Shiro rose with a sigh and began to pack. His knife was a few feet away in the grass where he’d left it, a goodwill gesture from last night. His boots were beside it, toes fortunately free from morning dew or creepy crawlies. No matter how many barns he slept in he could never get used to finding a spider nestled in his things when he woke. 

He eyed the leftover bread in his pack. They’d eaten a good share of it yesterday, there was hardly any left, maybe only a serving or two… He reached in and began to tear the remaining hunk.

_ You’re being an idiot Shiro. He’s not coming back here _ .  _ It’ll just go to waste if you leave it. _

Despite his manners telling him to still leave a piece he packed the bread back up in its cloth and slung his pack over his back, ready to leave. 

“Where are you going?”

Shiro almost tripped flat on his face. 

Lance was standing at the edge of the clearing, tan skin and tawny fur blending in with the forrest around him so well he would have missed him if not for his voice. His bow was slung over one shoulder and arms crossed like a mother catching her child with a hand in the sweets jar. 

“Lance!” Shiro sputted. “You’re… you’re here. Where were you, wait… how long have you been here?”

The centaur shrugged. “I saw a rabbit. Figured I should try and catch it. As for how long…” His ears flicked in a way that made Shiro acutely aware of how Lance looked him up and down. “Long enough.”

“I thought you’d just up and left.”

“Yes, and now I’m back.”

“But…” Shiro licked his lips. He could have sworn… “but you didn’t even leave a note or anything? How was I supposed to know?”

It was Lance’s turn to look surprised. The centaur paced back a few steps in bewilderment. “I… I left a trail. Didn’t you see it? Even a newborn knows how to track someone walking like that.”

“Trail?” Shiro looked stupidly at the handful of hoofprints on the ground. “Like… your footsteps?”

“Yes! Don’t humans do that?”

Shiro looked back at Lance, the same expression of a squire realizing what horse duty actually meant on his face. “… no?”

Lance’s ears drooped. “Oh… oh…” he repeated. 

“I-it’s fine,” Shiro stammered, desperately waving a gloved hand to try and calm the other. “I didn’t think you’d left them on purpose or anything… I shouldn’t have just assumed, uh… do you want breakfast?” He pulled the remaining piece of bread from his sack so fast he nearly flung half of it onto the group. 

He didn’t know why, but his hand trembled under Lance’s gaze, crumbs shaking off the loaf and trailing into the wrapping as he held it out at arm’s length. He could feel flush creep up the back of his neck. It was like being a squire again, desperately hoping his master would approve of his improvement in a task or risk feeling the cool sting of the flat of a blade atop his knuckles. It was a strange feeling to have now, so far away from what he’d called home, a lifetime away from his old life. 

“Is this all that’s left?”

Shiro felt some of the weight lift from his hand. Quieter than the breeze through the leaves Lance had stepped forward to meet him, now blinking down at Shiro between glances at the hunk of break in his hand. That unnerving, studious look was gone, replaced with a lighter one, the type he’d only seen a handful of times when Lance’s serious exterior had fallen enough to show his excitement or embarrassment the day before. 

“Yeah, this is it.” His mouth felt dry as he palmed the last of his supply. 

The centaur let out a long breath, one hand combing through his cropped hair. 

“I guess that means we’ll have to track down something else to eat now.”

Shiro blinked in confusion. “We… we’ll have to? You mean …? ”

“What?” Lance snorted, taking a small bite of his share of the ration. “I said I would let you stay around me for a few days. That means we’ll have to eat during it of course. Unless you were thinking I plan to fast the entire time I have you tailing me.”

“Well… no…” he said stupidly, looking down at his own share. “I guess I’m surprised you still want me around, even if you hated the idea before. I thought you might have just left me on my own when I woke up. It just… made sense at the time.”

Lance paused in his chewing, brow furrowed. “I gave you my word. Does that not mean anything to humans?”

“Not everyone…” Shiro sighed, one hand moving reflexively to his side before he could help it. “Some people are more than happy to break it for their own gain. But still,” he forced himself to crack a smile, “it’s nice to know it means something to you.”

The centaur nodded slowly, resuming his breakfasting, Shiro quietly following suit. The other ate it in large pieces, greedily tearing bites from the mass and quickly chewing what spilled over his lips into the depths of his mouth. If Shiro didn’t know any better he would have thought Lance hadn’t eaten in weeks. 

“Speaking of,” Lance said between cheekfuls, “if you’re flanking me for the next while yet, you’re joining me in hunting. I can’t be roaming for three extra days and return empty handed.”

Shiro couldn’t help but hold back a snort at that. 

“Makes sense… so what do you hunt usually?”

* * *

As it turned out, Lance’s clan normally hunted small game, rabbits or squirrels or the occasional pheasant. “Not duck?” He’d asked as they’d stalked into the forest in hunt of the tell-tale signs of burrows or nests. 

Lance had paused to look at him, a face of pure disbelief on his face. “Humans eat  _ those? _ ”

“Yes, they’re actually really tasty… the legs and breast at least, so long as you don’t dry them out. Nobles really like them a lot.”  _ Second to big game  _ he continued to himself. After meeting Lance he was pretty sure he’d never be able to look at another piece of venison the same way again.

There was something about Lance’s easy lopping gait, the way his haunches would bounce and twist even as his torso remained near motionless. It was something he’d never picked up when hunting deer before, the does and bucks his hunting parties had been after were almost always bounding away in a panic whenever he caught sight of them, the hounds of the hunt frothing and biting at their heels until the noble in charge dealt the final blow. 

For a brief second, the image of Lance as one of those deer swam before his eyes and he had to clutch his stomach. There was no way he could ever eat it again, no matter how starving he was. If he was ever to return to another peaceful court for the hunt it would be for boars or small foul. At least they didn’t have the same intelligent twinkle in their faces, let alone such a human one. 

He shook his head. He wasn’t going to think about that type of thing. He was in the forest now, away from the reaches of the kingdom and anyone from his past life, at least for the time being. He may as well take it for what it was and remember every last part of this peace before he got back on the road. 

Shiro’d been so lost in thought he hadn’t noticed Lance coming to a standstill until his gut collided with Lance’s rear. “ _ Sorry… _ ” he started to whisper, only for Lance to shush him with a quick finger to his lips and turn his gaze back to a mess of brambles under a nearby tree. 

Shiro leaned forward, eyes narrowed, and after a few breathless seconds managed to catch a telltale flash of movement behind the net of branches. There was definitely something in there, as to what he had no idea, but Lance clearly did. The centaur had drawn his bow as silently as the most practiced of archers and was slowly notching an arrow into place, all without letting his eyes waver a second from that spot. He watched as the string was pulled taught in tandem with the wiry muscles of Lance’s frame, how his breathing seemed to slow as all his focus settled on that singular spot in the brambles. And then in an instant the arrow was let loose, shot into flight so suddenly Shiro had to blink to make sure it hadn’t simply disappeared from existence.

There was a squawk and a burst of feathers as a pheasant sprung from the bush, tail feathers ruffled but otherwise unharmed. Lance let loose a word that was altogether too angry to be anything other than a curse and drew another arrow from his pack at his waist, bounding after the bird as it took flight. 

“Get my arrow! I have to catch this before it gets too far!” he barked, and Shiro was watching Lance’s speckled haunches disappear into the thicket beyond, hardly sure what had happened in the last 3 seconds he’d moved so fast. As the last of Lance blended in with the underbrush the spell was finally broken and Shiro knelt down beside the mass of brambles to hunt for the arrow. 

In some way, it was smart Lance had asked him to do this instead of doing it himself. While the centaur definitely seemed hardy, Shiro doubted his bare arms would do well against the web of thorns that hid the bird’s nest. He himself was lucky enough to still have a few pieces of leather armour on him, saving his forearms at least, even if his fingers were quickly pricked and scraped as he rooted about. 

He could hear the snap of branches as Lance returned, his companion’s cursing enough to tell of his success. His fingers closed around a smooth shaft just as Lance’s shadow came to stand over him. 

“Stupid leg,” Lance groused. “If I hadn’t twisted it I would have had it. I  _ should  _ have had with with that first shot too. The dumb bird lucked out, must have mistaken it’s tail for its body, I’d never have missed otherwise.”

“S’fine,” Shiro smiled reassuringly at him, passing the arrow back. “You’ll have another shot later. It’s not like there’s barely any wildlife in here, right?” He was about to push the branches back into place when something caught his eye. 

“True, but that doesn’t mean any of it is easier to catch. A bird just sitting in the bush is about as easy as it gets. Thing must have been resting or-” 

Lance went quiet as Shiro drew out a handful of small speckled objects.

“... or it was nesting,” he finished, voice dipping lower. 

“There’s about four or five here,” he said, pulling another two out from the center of the brush. “I don’t know if it counts as a hunt or not, but food is food. We can always eat them ourselves.” He blinked up at the centaur, who’d gone a still as stone. 

“Lance?” he asked hesitantly. 

“Put them back.”

“But…” Lance’s words about the need to forage rode through his head. “We still need to eat, and it’s not going to be what you have to take back, right?”

“Back,” Lance repeated, kneeling awkwardly until his legs were tucked beneath his body. He took an egg from Shiro’s open palm and reached back into the thicket. “We don’t take young ones.”

“Are they even fertilized though?” Shiro asked, but the way Lance’s jaw set told him to drop the question. He sighed and gently placed the rest back into the mound of grass he’d found them in. “I guess that’s one of the rules you live by then? Don’t hunt anything until it’s full grown?”

Lance nodded, quietly closing the brambles back up until the nest was no longer visible. “If you take before they’re ready, they’ll never come back. You can lose things that way.” 

Shiro bobbed his head slowly, all too familiar with the concept of overhunting and how it had ruined the lands to the North. It was why they’d begun to push out, invade elsewhere… 

“Makes sense. So I guess we’re not going after the mother either?”

“Nope,” Lance grumbled, “which means we have to find something else. No idea how long that’s going to take.”

“How much do they expect you to find?”

“Given that I’m going to be gone for at least three days…” he tallied on his fingers, “at least four. Six if I don’t want to have to explain the low yield and get chewed out for getting too close to the human roads and having to hide.”

“Which you did.”

Lance pulled a face at that and stood up. “It was one that you people barely used. How was I supposed to know were you going to come by with half an army behind you.”

“That’s…” Shiro chuckled, “that was nowhere near close to an army. Just the guard from the town mainly. Might have been a few others added in, but there couldn’t have been much more than ten of them.”

Lance rolled his eyes as Shiro came to stand beside him. “Okay,  _ fine. _ A  _ quarter  _ of an army then. Still not my fault, and it definitely doesn’t change the fact I still have to find a bunch of game now.”

“Well, I guess that means we need to get moving, don’t we?”

* * *

Shiro wasn’t even half bad at hunting. It didn’t even take half a day for Lance to realize that. He was certainly clumsy footed at times and almost oblivious to tracks and signs of nests, but once he spotted something the human could zone in onto it and watch for what felt like hours. The second time it had happened, when Lance had found tracks leaving from a rabbit’s burrow, Shiro had plunked himself down behind a nearby salal bush to wait for its return. Lance had tired of it almost instantly. Within ten minutes he was ready to move again, only to be waved off by Shiro telling him to come back if he wanted to keep hunting elsewhere. 

He’d returned almost an hour later with his first catch, a decent sized pidgeon, only to nearly drop it at the sight of Shiro calmly trussing up a large rabbit. 

“H-how…” he sputtered as Shiro held up his dagger and asked if he should gut the thing or not. 

“Made a snare trap and waited,” he shrugged. “As soon as it came back and stepped into it all I had to do was pull and catch. It’s not fast, but it works. Now, do you usually clean them or not?”

“A snare… trap?”

Shiro help up a loop of cord - the drawstring from his bag Lance realized - and tugged it tight around his finger in illustration. A piece of cord… Shiro had caught a rabbit with a tiny piece of cord…

“So about cleaning it?”

Lance shook his head, hoping some of his shock would fall with it. “Best not to, I didn’t bring anything to do it with myself.”

Shiro nodded and offered the prize to Lance, neatly tied by the paws and easy to carry. “I’ll leave it be then. So we’re halfway there now, that’s good, and it’s barely past midday!” The way he beamed like a young fawn at the idea was more than enough for the corner’s of Lance’s own mouth to twitch up in response. 

“Yeah.”

“Any ideas on where we should head next?”

Lance’s forehead wrinkled in thought. They couldn’t get too close to his clan’s main territory, not without the serious risk of someone finding out about a human being this deep in the forest. That being said, too far away and he’d have no idea what the hunting or predators in the area would be like. The best option would be someplace close to a boundary they rarely used… someplace with less cover than he was supposed to venture into… 

“There’s some marshland a mile or two east of here. We might be able to find some more birds there. You said ducks are edible?” he asked with a squint at the human. 

“I haven’t lied yet, have I? I’m surprised you haven’t tried them ever, they taste-” 

A growl rolled through the densely packed trees. Shiro’s face went red. 

“Sorry…” he mumbled sheepishly. He looked as remorseful as if he’d shorn the fur off Lance’s back. It was almost endearing, in a strange type of way. 

“S’okay,” Lance said, holding back a smile at the way Shiro looked up at him from behind his bangs down on the ground. “We’ll find something.”

The first something they came across happened to be a scant scattering of mushrooms and a large patch of nettles halfway to their destination. Lance picked a generous handful of the leaves and pointed the human at the more edible fungi. He didn’t miss the wrinkle in Shiro’s nose as he did so. 

“We’re eating these raw? And… dirty?” The tone to his voice was less disgust and more disbelief, as if part way through coming to terms with this development.

“Up to you,” Lance shrugged, and continued leading the way through the forest. 

Shiro’s stomach’s noises were getting progressively worse, so much so that when they crossed paths with a grouse it startled from the growling before Lance could even let loose a shaft. He hadn’t stopped apologizing for what felt like hours after that, which made Lance all the more determined to hunt down more.

As the woods began to thin he managed to find a few wild leek growing in a small field of wild grass and a large patch of dandelions.  _ Good enough _ he thought, stooping over awkwardly to try and rip them out by the roots. The leeks came up easily enough, the dandelions not so much. After much tugging and huffing (and one attempt that nearly had him falling on his rear) he’d at least managed to loosen them somewhat. 

Shiro stepped forward and kneeled down beside him. “Are you trying to get the roots or the leaves?”

“Both… well, in an ideal world both. But leaves are fine,” he said, blowing his hair from his face in attempt to regain some composure. Shiro’s knife was drawn from his belt, and in an instant the bulk of the plant was now in his hands. 

“This enough?”

“Y-yeah…” Lance took the bundle and began to trample down a patch of the field. It wouldn’t do to start losing things now. It especially wouldn’t do to start looking out of his element in his own home. He hadn’t underestimated Shiro per say, he knew humans were supposed to be crafty, but the man’s sheer adaptability and ease in the forest had him thrown off balance. Humans ate plants and livestock they kept in tight little pens… they weren’t supposed to be good at foraging, and especially not at hunting. 

He was beginning to realize a lot of what he’d learned was wrong. 

Satisfied with his little spot of flat ground he settled onto his haunches and began sorting through the bunches of leaves he’d collected. The nettles wouldn’t be much use now, but he might be able to make tea with them later if they could find a rounded rock deep enough to hold water. What was important now was actual food. He needed Shiro full enough that they could keep hunting without another repeat of the grouse incident. 

Speaking of the human, he’d come to sit beside Lance, carefully spreading out the mushrooms and leeks he’d been asked to hold. 

“Knife?”

Shiro looked at him for a moment, as if not quite processing what he’d just asked. Lance repeated the question, this time with hand held forward for good measure. He didn’t miss the way Shiro looked between Lance’s own outstretched palm and his own closed around the hilt. Several heartbeats passed before the cool weight of the pommel was pressed into his hand. Lance took it without a word and turned to the plants. 

“What are you…” Shiro began to ask, but fell silent as Lance started to peel the outer layers of the mushrooms bare, exposing their cloudy white interiors. He kept watching, lips parted, as Lance started to shred them into thin slices. As he started on the third one Shiro unbuckled the piece of brown padding from around the single side of his chest and laid it on the ground before them. A bowl of sorts. 

“I had no idea… you’re so good with a knife,” he said quietly. His eyes never left Lance’s hands for a second. 

“You never asked,” Lance shrugged. 

“I guess I just thought… since you hunt with a bow and all, but then again you have to clean things somehow. I shouldn’t be that surprised, but you’re really good.” Shiro’s eyes blew wider as Lance began to work on some of the leeks, deftly peeling away the outermost layer with a lazy flick of his wrists and beginning to peel cream-and-green spirals from them. “As in… really good.”

“I used to help a lot with food prep when I was younger. It’s a stepping stone to hunting in a way. Show you can handle the ingredients when at camp, you can handle them in the wild as well.” He tossed the last of the leek into Shiro’s armor piece and coarsely chopped a few of the dandelion leaves. “This though… it’s so sharp, and so bright.” He turned it over a few times, watching as the sunlight caught on the blade, reflecting his face clear as a mirror pool. 

“It’s steel. A metal blend. Strong and durable as can be. Stays sharp for ages, so long as it’s cared for.” The weight of it was taken from Lance’s hands and gently wiped on the hem of Shiro’s cloak. “A friend taught me that a long time ago.”

“In battle?” Lance asked, now tossing everything together with his fingers. 

“Nah,” Shiro laughed, “his dad was a blacksmith and when he saw the state my training sword was in he nearly bashed me over the head with it. Probably wouldn’t have done that much damage, I’d maintained it that badly. This here is one of the first he made himself. It’s not perfect, from a craftsman standard, but as he put it, ‘it should be strong enough to put up with all of your shit’.” He chuckled fondly, tucking it back into his belt. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen him.”

Lance stilled. “He wasn’t… he’s not the one you couldn’t protect, is he?”

That overcast, the same as before rolled over Shiro’s features, even if he fought to keep his smile there. “No… that’s someone else. There’s a chance he’s still safe. He’s got relatives from the ruling kingdom, they could have taken him in and hidden him before anything could have happened.” The low rumble of thunder joined his clouded look.

_ “Sorry!” _ Shiro squeaked, clutching his stomach. And just like that that look was gone, replaced with his usual sheepish one.

This time, Lance couldn’t hold back a grin. 

“Okay, enough beating around the bush. Time to show you what a real hunter’s meal is, none of that scrounging for eggs business.” He pushed the breastplate of salad towards Shiro. “Dandelion and wild mushroom toss. Not quite meal of champions, but it’s pretty good for a raw affair.”

The human looked between the bowl and his hands for a few seconds, before picking up a fingerfull and bringing the mix to his mouth. He gave it a careful, doubting sniff, and pushed it past his lips. 

“Oh my godddd,” he moaned, sinking into the ground a little even as he reached for another handful. “This is so good… just what I needed.”

Lance shot him a ‘told-you-so’ look and began to tuck in himself, even if it meant not being able to lift the bowl to his mouth and simply tucking in from there. Shiro was right. It might not have been the best he’d ever tasted (that was saved for Hunk’s  _ amazing _ hot salad with honey and elderberries) but it was good. Really good for something he’d managed to cobble together. 

“Feel better?” he asked between mouthfuls of greens. 

“So much,” Shiro said between more mouthfuls. “I don’t know why, but I’m starving.”

Lance nodded, then paused. It  _ was _ funny after all. Yesterday Shiro’s body had barely made a sound, and then today he was acting like a man starved. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t eaten either. He’d had that ‘bread’ thing, he’d even shared it with-

_ Oh _ . 

Lance slowed down, remembering back to this morning, to last night. The size of the chunks he’d been given, versus the sizes Shiro had been taking for himself. They weren’t unfairly equal, but the difference was there, always weighted in his own corner. Shiro’d been sure to feed him properly, even if it meant making himself go hungry. 

“You okay Lance?”

The centaur looked up to see Shiro, chewing slowly on a single dandelion stalk, a healthy flush of contentment just dusting his cheeks. He looked good like that, with a little colour in his skin. It made him want to see more of it. 

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Just starting to get full.”

**Author's Note:**

> As much as this can remain as a self contained piece I'm considering continuing this if I can, especially since my last long fic is wrapped now. Let me know if you'd be interested!


End file.
